


A Different Kind Of Human

by squidling



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M, deer!jihoon, deer!seungcheol, forest boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 01:02:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21262535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squidling/pseuds/squidling
Summary: Jihoon lived alone in a hill deep within the beautiful forest. All he ever wanted was a friend within his almost extinct species. The problem with that was that he was so close to extinction that he was actually the last one left.Or so he thought.





	A Different Kind Of Human

**Author's Note:**

> my friend kayla and i lost it over rock collector hoon and this is what happened  
hope u enjoy it kayla

There once was a little hill hidden in the depths of the forest. A river ran alongside it in pretty waves. A small dirt path met its end by this water. The start could be found close to the hilltop by a little round door. This door was once dark wood, but now it was covered in moss. Beyond this door, a man calmly sat at a table. He was a strange man, it was safe to say. Antlers burst out of his head and his nose mimicked that of a deer, too. His eyes were as dark as the night sky but his smile was as warm as a summer’s day. This man’s name was Jihoon.

On his table there lay a robin. Jihoon had found her on his morning walk. He had turned back home with her in his palm and rummaged through his cupboard for a cardboard box. He was now filling this box with a sample of moss and twigs. As gently as he could, Jihoon lifted the sick bird and lay her down inside. 

“It’s cosy, right?” He whispered. “You’ll feel better soon. I’ll make sure of it, okay?” 

Jihoon took the brown towel from his lap. He set it across the top of the box before placing it back inside his cupboard with a little label reading the type of bird and day he found it. He had two more in the cupboard already. Soon it would be time for them to be released back into the wild and fly happy once again.

Jihoon enjoyed looking after the forest animals. He didn’t have any friends, so he found company in the innocent ones around. Any other talking creatures would see him and run. There were bad tales about him.

Long ago, hundreds of years ago, deerfolk like him were in charge of the woods. They were the monarchy. The other animals feared them. They were not kind leaders. They would hunt the foxes, kick the badgers, tread carelessly on mice and if anyone was suspected of treason, evidence or not, they would be killed in front of their families. Children told their siblings stories at Halloween of these deerfolk. Mothers ordered their little ones to not go near this part of the woods. 

These deerfolk were Jihoon’s ancestors and he hated them with every ounce of his being. They were who gave him a cruel reputation.

During the world war, part of the forest was mistakenly targeted. A pilot misread a map. The bomb landed in the deerfolk’s corner. They were all wiped out except for four families: his grandparents. The next generation was his parents, and they then had him.

Now Jihoon was left alone. No other deerfolk remained. His mother died when he was very young, his father nine years ago. Jihoon had no relatives and he was wrongly feared by anyone who could talk. He made friends with the rocks by the river and the creatures that passed. 

Since the robin was now safe in a cool, dark spot, Jihoon took his little woven basket and rehooked his jar of sharp stones onto his belt. A slingshot sat next to this jar. Jihoon rarely had to use it, but he liked to know he could protect himself against anyone who attacked first. 

Jihoon padded across his moss carpet and into the great outdoors. He stumbled down the hill path, keeping an eye out for anything that may choose to run in front of him. This was a common occurrence: he had probably tripped over five foxes in the last month.

Before long he was by the water. The water was surrounded by beautiful rocks and pebbles, creating the riverbank. Jihoon smiled. He loved rocks.

“Hello,” he greeted them, “how have you been?”

Jihoon’s scarred fingers reached out automatically for a certain few. These were the ones he had considered yesterday but promised he would be back for. He liked to keep his promises. After taking the ones he had already met, Jihoon went for a stroll down the river.

He was in a good mood today. Any rock that caught his eye he picked up and introduced to the ones already cosy in his basket. Some were tiny and plain, others were large, some were whole and others were broken. Jihoon liked the broken ones the best. They were often beautiful inside: Glossy and colourful and shone in the sunlight. If they weren’t colourful, they sported interesting cracks that Jihoon loved to trace with his fingers. He had a special bookcase for the colourful ones, though - positioned perfectly so that if he let the sun in through his open door, the light saw the rock surfaces as a dancefloor.

For lunch, Jihoon sat down at a waterfall. He picked some berries and munched happily. Every few months or so Jihoon would leave the forest to a nearby village, full of plain human beings. Here he would steal a loaf of bread or five. He treasured his bread. Even after a few days when it was stale, he would take it down to the river and dampen it. When you lived off of nuts and berries, soggy bread remained a treat.

Jihoon stayed where he was until the day grew into the night. He smiled at the red sky as a rabbit climbed into his lap. There he decided that he would never be able to say whether he preferred dawn or dusk, even with a gun to his head.

Also attached to Jihoon’s belt was a leaf pouch. It contained a string of lights. Jihoon took these out now that night had come and placed them around his antlers to guide him back home. He also liked to think they made him look pretty.

As Jihoon made his way back to his hill, moths began to circle him. He laughed joyfully.

“That’s a lovely dance tonight,” he told them and he danced with them. He may have fallen over once or twice on his way up the path, but that was okay. After checking he still had all of his rocks, he continued.

Once he was safely inside, Jihoon set out his new friends. His home’s walls were full of shelves. Some were full and now in layers and others he had just put up. On the empty ones, he delicately arranged the rocks from his basket in size order.

This was his routine every day. This is what he had gone through each day since his father had died. Wake up, collect rocks, maybe help a bird, gather some food, and walk around until it was time to light up his antlers. Overall, Jihoon was very happy with his life. He would appreciate a friend, though.

Jihoon went to sleep in his old bed. It was a mattress that his parents had somehow smuggled from the village before he was born (he admired them for this) and was covered by a patchwork quilt. Springs dug into his back but he had never known any different, so he ignored the scratches against his speckled skin.

At dawn, Jihoon awoke once more. He buttoned up his shirt, slipped on his trousers and clipped on his braces. He checked his birds and deemed it ready to release the pretty blue one he had helped several days ago. Jihoon watched him fly back into the trees with a fond smile.

For breakfast, he feasted on some nuts. He threw them up in the air and caught them in his mouth as he ventured down to the river. It was the little things that kept him amused. It had to be.

Before long Jihoon was sat happily gathering rocks. He crawled along the shore, putting one by one into his basket. His hand reached out for a particularly speckled one. It reminded him of the pale spots that ran along his back. His hand hit another hand. 

What?

Jihoon looked up. He had never been more confused in his life. What he saw didn’t offer any answers.

A man stared back at him. Except that he wasn’t quite a man. His nose resembled that of a deer and strong antlers grew from his head. Jihoon couldn’t believe it. Was he imagining it? Was the loneliness getting to him?

“I thought I was the last one,” Jihoon whispered.

“So did I,” replied the stranger.

Jihoon took the speckled rock and held it out. “Take it. Please.”

The man shook his head. “You seem more dedicated to them. I don’t have a basket.”

“I probably have a similar one,” Jihoon pressed the rock into the man’s hand. “Please keep it.”

With a smile, the fellow slipped the rock into his trousers pocket. “I’m Seungcheol.”

“Jihoon.”

The two deerfolk spent an hour along the river, sharing rocks and discussing their families. Seungcheol had grown up on the other side of the forest. It turns out Jihoon’s family weren’t the only survivors; Seungcheol’s obviously had too, but relocated. His parents had died five years ago. They were murdered. Jihoon was shocked by this - his had just gotten very sick.

After the rock collecting, Jihoon took Seungcheol through his usual day. They ate berries together at lunchtime which they had picked themselves on the way there. The plan was to keep walking once they’d eaten, but instead, they lay back and just talked.

Jihoon had never felt happier. When he buried his dad, he thought that would be the last time he saw one of his kind. For days all he could think was “that’s it. It’s just me” and yet, here Seungcheol was. He gazed into his eyes. They were pretty. Extremely deer-like.

Seungcheol wasn’t as much of an explorer as Jihoon was. He usually stayed safe inside. He was from a harsher side of the forest. Over there, Seungcheol was surrounded by all kinds of folk: fox and badger were the main ones. Jihoon, however, was away from the others. He found himself suddenly worrying for Seungcheol.

They watched the sunset together. Jihoon didn’t, though. He watched Seungcheol instead.

“I’ve always dreamt of a friend,” Jihoon said. Seungcheol looked over. He gave him a soft smile.

“So have I.”

The night arrived and Jihoon pulled out his lights. Seungcheol was impressed by the way he slung them over so delicately yet effortlessly across his antlers. Jihoon hoped he wasn’t afraid of moths.

“Pretty,” Seungcheol said. The boy grinned. He took his hand. He didn’t know why, exactly - he had just felt the need. Seungcheol didn’t pull away. Instead, his grip tightened.

Jihoon felt anxious when Seungcheol made his way home. He wanted to walk him back, to make sure he was okay, but the other insisted that it was safer alone. Afterall, Jihoon rarely had to fight anyone off and only carried a slingshot. Seungcheol carried a sheath of knives.

For nine years, Jihoon had followed the same routine. But now, with another of his kind, his routine was disrupted ever so slightly and he loved it. 

There was a bounce to his step as he stumbled down the hill. He met Seungcheol at the bottom, who occasionally fished as he waited. Jihoon didn’t even know fishing rods were a thing. He’d always tried to catch them as they swam past. Seungcheol found this funny and invited Jihoon to sit down next to him. His new friend handed him the fishing rod and taught him the tricks he had learned. He also chose a rock from his forest side each time to give him. In return, Jihoon taught him the types of birds that he knew and let him meet the ones he was looking after. He also picked out a rock for him.

At lunchtime, they picked berries by the waterfall, but then they walked to Jihoon’s and Seungcheol gutted the fish. He cleared a space outside and started a fire for cooking them.

“I don’t have fish as often as I used to,” he explained, “the smoke gives away your location. My dad used to take me hiking to more secrete spaces for it, so if anyone hunted us down they wouldn’t know where we lived. I don’t like to do it alone now, though.”

“Was the smoke how he died?” Jihoon asked. “Was that how he was hunted?”

Seungcheol nodded. The shine in his eyes had disappeared, so Jihoon decided to leave it there.

Seungcheol was a good cook. His dad had taught him well. Jihoon had never eaten so quickly in his life - throwing it down his throat like he hadn’t eaten for weeks, then wishing he had savoured it. His new friend watched him with a fond smile.

Through fishing, cooking and walks, the two of them bonded. It got harder and harder for Seungcheol to leave each evening. The worry of whether or not he got home okay kept Jihoon awake at night.

One morning, Seungcheol wasn’t sat by the river fishing or building his rock collection. Jihoon’s heart beat fast. Had he been hunted? Was he hurt? A loud clap came from above and then Jihoon was soaked in the bitter rain. He started running in Seungcheol’s direction, aiming straight ahead.

“Hey! Deer!”

Jihoon whipped around. He saw a flash of orange. Foxfolk. They drew their arrows. Rather than unscrew his jar, Jihoon continued to run. He hit something and he collapsed against it. He immediately felt uneasy. His head had been slammed against the stones. Jihoon tried to look at who was crouched beside him but his vision was swimming in and out. His stomach melted inside of him.

“Hoon, are you okay?”

Seungcheol. He had run into Seungcheol.

“Um, yeah-”

“Great,” Seungcheol jumped up and took Jihoon’s hand. They ran the way they came. Seungcheol soon had to stop and carry his friend. He wasn’t used to having to run fast - that and the poor thing kept tripping and having to stop for a moment. Seungcheol took him behind his legs and back and continued to run, this time with Jihoon in his arms.

Jihoon must have passed out because before he knew it he was in the dark. Something was being pressed against his forehead. It stung. The rest of his head throbbed.

“Hi,” Seungcheol said softly. He held a bowl made of bark that was filled with water from the river. He used his hand to carefully dab Jihoon’s forehead. “You’re home now. You’re okay.”

“Did they follow us?” Jihoon asked. His biggest fear as his safe spot being discovered. He even had a sheet of rolled up grass above his door that hid it from plain sight. Judging by the lack of light shining through the door, Seungcheol had had the sense to roll it down.

“They lost us, it’s okay,” he promised. “There, the bleeding’s stopped.”

“I was bleeding?”

Seungcheol nodded. He shook off his damp hand before wiping it across his shirt. He sighed and stared at the floor.

“You really worried me,” he said. “What were you doing?”

“You weren’t at the river and I was scared-”

“I ask you not to walk me home for a reason, Hoon!” Seungcheol protested. The angry tone scared the injured boy. Jihoon pulled the quilt to his chin. His friend sighed. “I’m sorry, I just… I’m so worried that something will happen to you. And not because we’re basically extinct.”

Jihoon stayed quiet for a moment. Then he spoke up, “that’s how I feel every night when you go home.”

The two stared at each other. Jihoon’s hand found Seungcheol’s, who raised it to his cheek and rested against it with his eyes closed.

Seungcheol meant a lot to Jihoon. All his life, he had wished for a friend who wasn’t just a relative. Now he finally had one and it hit so much harder than Jihoon had expected it to. He hated every second he spent apart from him. He always wanted to be close. He appreciated the jokes and the laughs and the fun they had together, the survival lessons they taught each other, the fun tricks they shared. Jihoon wanted to be close to him. He wanted to take Seungcheol’s hand and never let it go.

Was this what it was to have a friend? Or was it that “love” thing his mother told him about?

“Stay here,” Jihoon blurted out. “It’s safe. It’s secure. Nothing will hunt you down here. And we don’t have to worry about each other.”

Seungcheol didn’t say anything for a minute. It was the longest minute of Jihoon’s life.

“Okay.”

So the next morning, Seungcheol began the process of moving in. Whenever Jihoon came down to the river, he had as much as he could carry with him. This went on for a few days or so until Seungcheol was happy with everything he had. He only brought his essentials: clothes, broken ornaments left around the forest, things his parents had left behind, his rock collection, and a few conkers. For a reason he couldn’t explain, Seungcheol was attached to them.

A new routine began.

Jihoon would wake up next to Seungcheol. Over time, he would wake up and closer and closer to him than where he was when he first went to sleep. Neither of them minded. In fact, more often than not, Seungcheol would be holding Jihoon close.

The pair would start their day by stumbling down the hill together. At the bottom, they sat down next to each other and admired the new rocks that the water had pulled up. Some days they would even give one to the beaver that occasionally swam past. After rock collecting, their next activity was a long walk.

Today they stopped at the waterfall. Seungcheol looked around.

“Let’s go higher,” he said.

Jihoon took Seungcheol’s hand and let him guide the way. It was steep and they both struggled a bit, but the view was worth it. 

Now at the top of the waterfall, every part of the forest had become visible. You could even see the village. The trees revealed all shades of green. You could clearly see the breaks between them full of blue from the river. It was so beautiful, so perfect. Jihoon was reminded of a picnic he had had with his family when he was young. 

Seungcheol slipped his arm around Jihoon’s waist. The younger leaned his head against his shoulder. He closed his eyes. He had never felt safer.

“Jihoon?”

“Hmm?”

“I think I love you.”

Jihoon’s eyes snapped open. He loosened Seungcheol’s grip and turned around to face him. He eased himself onto the tips of his toes. Then his lips met his. Neither had kissed anyone before, but they figured it out fairly quickly. It felt right. It felt good.

“I think I love you too,” was Jihoon’s conclusion. Seungcheol mirrored his smile. They kissed again before settling down to eat and/or cuddle. This, however, presented an issue.

“Oh,” Seungcheol said. He burst into laughter. Their antlers had become tangled. “Okay, hold still, I’ll uh…”

“Not helping!”

“Sorry, sorry, just edge a little left - I mean right - uh, my left, your right…”

“Ow!”

Seungcheol placed his hands on Jihoon’s shoulders with a firm grip. “Just stay still-”

“My legs burn!”

Giggling, Seungcheol carefully tilted his head this way and that until finally the two were free. Jihoon laughed and collapsed against him, only to knock his antlers into his lover’s face.

They held hands a little tighter now. They fell asleep in each other’s arms, rather than edging closer throughout the night. Jihoon spent most of his time with Seungcheol wrapped around him these days. 

Together they cared for little birds. They filled up their shelves with rocks and gnawed on some bark as they did so. Evenings were spent cuddled up on the floor and reading books, followed by nights spent stargazing. It was all Jihoon had ever wanted and more. It was perfect. Too perfect.

Winter came and snow fell. The majority of forest animals went into hibernation. The river froze over and berries stopped growing. It as the time of year where Jihoon wished he hibernated too. The snow was pretty, but he grew hungry and went to sleep shivering. It was better this year. Seungcheol warmed him up.

Jihoon stood shivering one morning looking at the calendar on the wall (stolen last year from the village). He blew into his hands and rubbed them together.

“Cheol?” He called.

“Hmm?”

“It’s Christmas Eve.”

Seungcheol came out of the bedroom and smiled. “Christmas is the only good part of Winter.” Jihoon agreed.

The next day, Jihoon woke up with a burst of energy. It was Christmas! He woke Seungcheol up and they exchanged gifts. They had gotten each other a beautiful rock each, unwrapped because no leaves were available. Tangerines were also exchanged. Their day was spent running around in the snow, throwing snowballs and building snowmen. It was the best day of Jihoon’s life.

“Do you think this is solid?” Seungcheol asked, gently prodding what was once the river. “It’s been ice for like a month, right?”

“About that, yeah,” Jihoon confirmed. “Be careful, though.”

Seungcheol stepped onto the ice. He took another step. And another. Nothing happened. He deemed it safe and Jihoon joined him.

For a good hour, the two “skated”. They slipped and fell into each other’s arms, onto the ice, onto their stomachs. Each time it was accompanied by a set of giggles. The woods were silent except for the lovers goofing about on the ice, chasing each other and having the time of their lives. Until Jihoon went a little too far down.

A crack grew beneath his foot. 

He and Seungcheol froze. Neither dared move. One wrong footing and Jihoon would be done for. They both knew this all too well. 

“Take my hand,” Seungcheol took a feeble step forward and held his arm out. Jihoon couldn’t reach. The elder edged closer. 

Their fingers brushed. They both leaned forward, desperate to get back to land. Finally, their hands linked. Jihoon’s confidence rose, but only by a little bit. It was enough to walk forwards, though.

Bad move.

The ice below him fell through. It didn’t hesitate to bring Jihoon with him. He screamed. Seungcheol screamed. His grip tightened and he dug his heels into the ice. It was clear Jihoon was simply unfortunate enough to have hit a thin patch.

Seungcheol was strong but his hands had grown sweaty from the fear. His grip slipped.

“Jihoon!” He cried. He launched forward and cried out once more, this time from the shock of his arm hitting the cold water. The odds were in his favour. He managed to grab an antler. 

Jihoon placed his hand on top and carefully, ever so carefully, Seungcheol adjusted his grip to hold his lover’s hand once more. He pulled with all of his might but the ice wasn’t stable enough to balance.

Jihoon couldn’t breathe. Both boys were all too aware of that. As quickly as he could, Seungcheol was able to stand up. Still holding onto Jihoon’s hand, he swivelled around. Now he was on land. He dug his feet in through the snow and into the hard dirt. And he tugged.

Seungcheol had never been so glad that Jihoon was so little. He pulled him back into the air and onto safe land.

As Jihoon coughed up icy water, Seungcheol held his hand to his chest. He had started to cry and he couldn’t stop. He almost lost him. He almost lost his best friend, his lover, his other half. That was too close. That was far too close.

That winter Jihoon fell sick. The cold water was difficult to recover from. He lay in bed covered by every quilt they owned, weak and breathing heavily. Seungcheol fussed over him all day and most of the night, too. The boy had a cough that stopped both of them from sleeping. He was as pale as the snow outside and he was beginning to lose weight.

Seungcheol gave him a gentle kiss one morning before dressing up warm. He had never stolen from the village before. But he knew that nuts weren’t going to help Jihoon in the slightest. It was a shame about their ancestors. Both of them were left with a fear of hunting animals because of their reputation. It meant they suffered more than anything this time of year. Nut diets weren’t great at all.

Cursing his antlers, Seungcheol slipped through the trees. How Jihoon stole things from here he would never know. He now hovered on the edge of a road. He assumed if he followed it he would reach the markets.

And that he did. It was full of people. Actual people. Seungcheol had never seen them before. That was what his nose should look like? He twitched his in response to this thought. It was strange to see someone that looked a little like him, but with a skin-coloured nose and nothing poking out of their heads.

Seungcheol kept behind the stall keepers. He had to half crawl considering easy it was for his antlers to give him away. To get anything he knew he would have to risk slipping in between.

Tins of soup. Perfect. Seungcheol’s hand reached out. No one noticed with how crowded it was. He kept his head low, grabbed a tin and shoved it into his pocket. He kept going.

His heart was pounding. He stuck out like a sore thumb and he knew it. A small child looked at him and gasped, her eyes wide. Seungcheol responded by putting a finger to his lips. The little girl nodded.

Some way or another, Seungcheol ran away from the market thirty minutes later. He had a loaf of bread smuggled beneath his jacket, soup in his pocket, matches and even a pack of biscuits. He had been seen, he knew that. That was why he was running. He zigzagged, just in case they had any weapons, and was soon engulfed by trees. Zigzagging through trees was a good way to lose anyone who might be tracing his steps. Luck was on his side as the snow began to cover his tracks.

Seungcheol made it home fine. He counted himself lucky. He gathered some wood from around the back, and set it up indoors. Whilst the soup cooked, he went into the bedroom to check on Jihoon.

“Where have you been?” Jihoon asked weakly.

“Supply shopping.”

Jihoon frowned, but he didn’t have the energy to say anything. He did manage to mutter a thank you, though.

Since the fire was going, Seungcheol helped Jihoon out of bed. He kept his arm around him to support the boy as he walked and draped quilts around his shoulders. Jihoon half-collapsed in front of the cooking soup and held his hands out. The heat was a gift. It enveloped him in waves and comforted him, helping him to feel just a little bit better. The sick boy shut his eyes and leaned against Seungcheol.

It wasn’t long before the soup was hot and ready to eat. Seungcheol spoonfed Jihoon because his hand shook when he tried to himself. It helped Jihoon just a little bit and only for a little while.

That winter was cruel and that winter was long. There was a week where Jihoon couldn’t bring himself to do anything but sleep. Seungcheol carried him into the living room, padding the floor with blankets stolen from some house in the village, and made sure the fire kept burning. He didn’t dare take an eye off of him. The only sound was Jihoon’s raspy breaths.

As Jihoon lay there being smothered in quilts, Seungcheol sat next to him gloomily. He was terrified. His brother had grown ill one winter when they were young. It killed him. If this killed Jihoon, Seungcheol would never forgive himself. It was his fault. He was the one who suggested going onto that ice. He was the reason Jihoon fell through. He was the reason Jihoon now lay pale and weak and gasping for air.

“You’ll feel better soon,” Seungcheol promised. “I’ll make sure of it, okay?” 

He held Jihoon’s hand and with his free one, ran his fingers through the boy’s hair. A soft melody escaped his lips; a lullaby his mother used to sing to him.

Jihoon managed a smile. A very small, very quick smile, but a smile nonetheless. His eyelids flickered. He watched his lover with almost a spark in his eyes.

As the snow slowly melted, Jihoon slowly got better. His condition improved and his strength returned. By the time spring had arrived, the two were back down the river to fish once again. Seungcheol had never felt so relieved.

When the flowers were in full bloom, it became a contest between the two to see who could collect the most flowers for the other. Jihoon had the advantage of knowing the area better. He dived into lesser-known spots where the roses and tulips grew.

Suddenly Jihoon stopped. He looked across the clearing of trees and saw Seungcheol on the other side. The boy was crouched down, pulling the flowers out by the roots and arranging them in his hand. He had such a sweet, content look on his face.

A year ago, Jihoon was alone. His only friends were the rocks and the moths. He was the last of his species and he had no one to talk to. Walks were spent alone. Nights were spent cold. Everyone who could speak hated him. 

He was wrong there. It wasn’t everyone.

Jihoon watched Seungcheol, beaming. How did he get so lucky? Of all the ways he imagined his life going, this was never one of the scenarios, but it was better than all of them combined. He loved this man with all of his heart. It would kill him to spend a day without him. It became a mystery how he had managed alone for so long.

“Seungcheol!” He called. Seungcheol turned around. “I want to marry you!”

His lover’s jaw dropped. Then he smiled bigger than he ever had before.

On the first day of summer, the two were wed. Not properly, of course, since they had no one to actually marry them. But they dressed in white suits that the two had to journey to a town (not the village) for in the dead of night, decorated their antlers with flowers and exchanged vows. Each boy now donned a beautiful ring woven from small sticks that the other had spent a night making by candlelight. As deerfolk tradition, they nuzzled antlers before their first kiss as husbands. They sang traditional deer songs to dance to and spun each other around until they were dizzy and fell in a huddle on the grass.

The last deerfolk in the whole world laughed beneath a setting sun. Their fingers intertwined the two had never been happier. Their antlers adopted a habit of brushing lovingly against the other. Jihoon looked forward to a life full of Seungcheol.

They didn’t have a honeymoon. Usually, deerfolk would visit the mountains after getting married, but as the only deerfolk left, there was no one to guide them. They would never make it home again. That was assuming they made it there in the first place. 

So the couple carried on as normal, only slightly cheerier. They kissed more passionately and they nuzzled their antlers so often that their rate of getting tangled shot up dramatically.

“You know,” Seungcheol said one day, “where I used to live there was this gorgeous lake nearby. I always liked the idea of having a picnic there. Should we go?”

Jihoon gave him an odd look. “Well, yes, but didn’t you say that side of the forest was dangerous?”

“I know the way around. How do you think I made it here each day?” Seungcheol smiled. “When we ran into those foxfolk last year that was only because you were running off track and I spotted you from the distance. As long as you stick with me, it’s fine.”

This convinced Jihoon. It was true: Seungcheol did used to survive the journey every day that he took it. So the next night, they took a trip to the village.

When Jihoon was sick, Seungcheol had fucked up by visiting the village by day. Jihoon had never done that before. The boy loved to tease him about it. 

“Too much of a coward to break into the actual stores, are we?”

“Too dumb,” Seungcheol muttered.

Jihoon, ever the little thief, picked the locks to a grocery store quite easily. He kept pins on a shelf back home for this very purpose.

They picked up as much as they could carry in their arms and Jihoon’s basket. They collected bread, strawberries (these grew close to them but bugs usually got to them before they did), apples, cheese, sausage rolls and scotch eggs and a few more things. Neither had ever tried the last two before but agreed that they looked good.

In the late morning, the newlyweds set on their way. Seungcheol held Jihoon’s hand and kept him close. They moved slowly and stuck to the shadows. Jihoon placed all of his trust in Seungcheol.

“If my memory is correct,” the elder said, “the lake should be just around here…”

Seungcheol’s memory was correct. The lake was beautiful. The sun danced off of it and the water reflected the sky that held just a few clouds, the surrounding trees and even the mountains in the distance. A clearing had formed around the water, leaving several perfect spots to eat. Large rocks were dotted about so perfectly it seemed as though the lake was designed.

Jihoon set out the blanket close to the water’s edge, but not so close that it might pose some risks. They sat down and begun their feast.

“If you look through those trees,” Seungcheol pointed, “see that one by those flowers? Look past the right of that. Can you see that stone edge in the hill? That’s my old house.”

It was very pretty for a cave. Plants grew along the edge and it was fairly camouflaged within the moss. Although it looked very nice, it didn’t look very secure. For starters, it didn’t have anything like a door. In its place it had a large opening, allowing you to see inside. Seungcheol had grown up right in his enemy’s eyes.

“You left your lakeview for my place?” Jihoon said.

“For a beautiful river and a much better fishing spot. And you’re cool too, I suppose.” 

Jihoon hit his arm with a playful grin. He was going to feed him the cheese in his hand but he thought better of it now. He was beaten to it, any - Seungcheol had shoved a strawberry in Jihoon’s mouth. The boy almost choked.

The walk to the lake became a regular occurrence. It wasn’t always a picnic since they didn’t fancy stealing things every week. They were bound to be caught eventually and either killed or taken to a lab. To be fair, the latter would probably help their population. Instead, they took casual strolls to the waterside. One day, Seungcheol even showed Jihoon around his little cave. It had been untouched since he left it. Broken guitar pieces still sat in the corner.

“Self defence killed that little guy,” Seungcheol said with a sigh. 

Seungcheol hadn’t been as lucky as Jihoon. His bed was a pile of moss which he used to curl up on top of. He had never even had a blanket to sleep with.

“Well, the moss looks convenient for antlers.”

“It was,” Seungcheol laughed. In bed now, they had to sleep with their feet at the headboard in order to have space for their antlers and actually put their heads down.

The cave wasn’t much but it was cosy and homely. Seungcheol was still fond of it, but in more of a nostalgic way. He sat on the floor and traced some drawings on the wall. These drawings were twenty years old. He was the great artist behind them. Jihoon smiled and sat with him, telling him he had no idea he was so talented. Together they stared at the four stick figures with funny shapes coming out of their heads.

Their hands swung between them on the way home. Jihoon had begun to wish they weren’t two men - he would have loved to have raised children with Seungcheol. Then again, they wouldn’t ever be able to continue the bloodline in a non-questionable way, so maybe it was for the best; Jihoon had hated growing up with the belief that he was the last deerfolk.

“Careful,” Seungcheol suddenly whispered. Jihoon looked around. Foxfolk. The worst of the folk, Jihoon had decided. They were the most violent. It was ironic, really - deerfolk were supposed to be the bad ones but the two of them had only ever attacked after being provoked in the first place. Mostly, they just wanted a rock.

_Snap!___

_ _A stick below Seungcheol’s feet gave them away. The foxes looked over. They raised their weapons._ _

_ _“We’re just passing through,” Seungcheol said, raising his hands, “we mean no harm.”_ _

_ _No sooner had the words left his mouth did an axe fly through the air._ _

_ _Jihoon’s instinct kicked in and he tried to pull Seungcheol behind him, but the elder was too strong. He shoved himself in front instead, knocking Jihoon over in the process._ _

_ _Then Seungcheol was on his knees._ _

_ _Jihoon crawled over to confirm his suspicions. The axe had hit. It sat neatly in Seungcheol’s stomach. Jihoon tried to stay calm but anger was bubbling up inside him. He glared at the foxfolk with thunder in his eyes._ _

_ _“What the fuck?” He spat. “What have we done to you? And don’t you dare say our ancestors because that has nothing to do with us! We’ve kept out of your way and snuck around you, we’re filled with fear every time we see you and yet you still hunt us, you still kill us. What’s the point? We’re the last ones left. We’ll die soon anyway.” He looked over at Seungcheol, who was pale and watching him with weaker eyes than when Jihoon was sick. He had pulled the axe out. _ _

_ _“You’re supposed to keep that in, love,” Jihoon whispered. He pressed his hands against the gaping wound._ _

_ _With one last look at the foxfolk, Jihoon stood up. He picked up his husband and ran faster than he knew he could run. Seungcheol had started crying into his chest. _ _

_ _By the time Jihoon lay Seungcheol down in bed, there was blood all over both of them. He couldn’t care less. He barely even noticed. His only priority was keeping Seungcheol alive. His husband winced and drew in a sharp breath as Jihoon pressed on his stomach._ _

_ _“I’m sorry,” he murmured, “I need to stop the bleeding. You’re going to be okay, I promise. Everything will be fine.”_ _

_ _“Jihoon,” Seungcheol whimpered. “Jihoon, I love you.”_ _

_ _“No,” Jihoon said, “no, no, no, don’t do that. Don’t say your goodbyes, Cheol, don’t you dare…”_ _

_ _“Th-thank you for everything,” Seungcheol whispered, “I love you. S-so much.”_ _

_ _The last of the colour drained from Seungcheol’s face and his beautiful eyes adopted a glazed look. His grip on his husband’s arm loosened._ _

_ _Jihoon truly was the last of the deerfolk._ _

_ _“I love you,” he sobbed, “I love you so much. I love you, I love you, I love you. Please don’t do this, Cheol, I need you, Cheol, I need you, Seungcheol, please, darling, please don’t do this… don’t leave me…”_ _

_ _His pleas were, of course, wasted. Jihoon kissed his lips one last time, gave his antlers one last nuzzle, and then just rocked his body gently in his arms. He let out a true animal’s howl at the top of his lungs that could be heard from even the river. The birds flew from the trees; all except one, which lay unwell on the path. It would be dead by the time Jihoon found it a week later._ _

_ _When Jihoon‘s sobs had passed, he carefully lay Seungcheol’s body back down. He left the room and went outside. Around the back, Jihoon kept a few tools. He grabbed a shovel and followed the river. His mind didn’t really know where he was going, but his legs seemed to. No one saw him make his way through the woods, past the patches of blood._ _

_ _Jihoon ended up at the lake. He circled it once or twice. Then he went over to Seungcheol’s cave. Just beside it, he began to dig a few feet deep. _ _

_ _It was hours until he was done. The sun had begun to set and Jihoon strung his lights around his antlers. He dragged his feet home. He would bury Seungcheol in the morning. It was the first time he hadn’t appreciated a red sunset._ _

_ _Seungcheol’s body was white now, and impressively cold to the touch. Jihoon closed his blank eyes. He took the quilt beneath him and wrapped it around his body. He liked to think it would keep him warm. Jihoon lifted Seungcheol’s corpse to the living room and lay him down on the carpet beneath the log couch._ _

_ _Jihoon didn’t sleep. How could he? All he could see when he closed his eyes was Seungcheol. _ _

_ _At the crack of dawn, Jihoon got up. He opened the door and carefully picked Seungcheol up. Rigor mortis had kicked in now, refusing to make Jihoon’s life any easier._ _

_ _He soon made it to the lake and to the grave he had dug. He crouched down and carefully slipped the body inside. It was the worst thing Jihoon had ever done. _ _

_ _“Goodbye, Seungcheol,” he whispered, “I’ll always love you, and I’ll always remember you, and I’ll forever treasure the times we had. You added colour to my black and white life. Never did I think I would have a friend like you, let alone a lover, a husband. I’ll forever be grateful for that, Cheol. You gave me a true reason to live. I know you’ll be watching over me in the stars. I love you. I can’t wait to see you again.”_ _

_ _As he piled the dirt on top of his body, Jihoon started to feel sick. He was already crying whilst he worked. After a little while, he had to stop. He found a nearby bush and threw up. He collapsed on the ground and wished he was dead too. This repeated several times as Jihoon covered the body._ _

_ _Finally, he was done. Jihoon ran his mucky hands through his hair and instantly regretted it. He sighed and began to walk._ _

_ _On the outskirts of the forest, there was a wooden hut. Jihoon had been here twice before, which was unfortunate considering it was where the forest folk got gravestones. The first time was with his dad after his mother died. The second and now the third time he was on his own. _ _

_ _The hut was owned by a grumpy elf named Minghao. He didn’t try to kill Jihoon like everyone else because he would probably quite like to kill everyone. The only reason he didn’t was most likely because no one would pay him for their gravestones._ _

_ _“Jihoon,” he said, surprised. He never expected to see him again. “Are we mourning a bird?”_ _

_ _“Cut it out, Minghao,” Jihoon snapped. “My husband’s dead.”_ _

_ _Minghao looked lost. Then his eyes widened. “Did you finally find out about the other deer guy? I was wondering how long that would take.”_ _

_ _“You knew Seungcheol?”_ _

_ _“Yep. Met him three times for each close family member.”_ _

_ _Jihoon nodded. He put his elbows against the counter and leaned his chin into his fists. Minghao grabbed a notebook, pot of ink and a quill and pushed them in his direction. No one needed to say anything. Jihoon knew what it meant._ _

_ _After thinking for some time, Jihoon began to write. It was fairly simple but it would do. Afterall, Seungcheol did say that less was more. Unless it was a rock collection. Or fish._ _

_ _Seungcheol Lee-Choi  
1995 - 5th August 2020  
The most loving son, brother and husband  
His story will forever be told_ _

_ _Minghao read through it. “Sucks,” he said. “Never even knew his birthday. What are you going to pay with?”_ _

_ _Jihoon hadn’t thought about that. Then he looked at his belt. He unhooked the jar of stones. He poured each one onto the counter. On second thought, he added a slingshot. He kept the jar in his hand because they were pretty difficult to come by. If Minghao asked for it, he would give it to him, but he’d rather not._ _

_ _Minghao let it pass. Although he was grumpy and not a fan of anyone or anything, he had some compassion. He would have appreciated the jar but he pitied Jihoon. He kind of felt bad for never introducing the two earlier. They’d have had more time._ _

_ _“Is that your only weapon?” Minghao asked. When Jihoon just nodded he asked, “are you sure? How will you protect yourself?”_ _

_ _Jihoon shrugged. “I don’t really care about that anymore. I could just blind them with my lights.” He took his lights out and kept them flashing to show him. Then they died. _ _

_ _“Good one.”_ _

_ _A few long days later, Jihoon returned to collect the gravestone. He borrowed a cart to help carry it. Minghao had offered to help, but Jihoon actually wanted to be alone. Minghao was relieved. He couldn’t be bothered._ _

_ _After wedging the stone into place, Jihoon stared for a little while. That was all Seungcheol was now. A body beneath some dirt, covered by a bloody quilt, marked out by engraved stone. Jihoon didn’t cry. He just felt nothing._ _

_ _For some time, Jihoon didn’t leave his house for anything other than the bare necessities and to see Seungcheol. He didn’t care about the dangerous trek past foxfolk. They could kill him, it was fine. It would be nice to see his husband again._ _

_ _Eventually, he settled back into his old routine. Wake up, collect rocks, maybe help a bird, gather some food, and sit by Seungcheol’s lake until it should have been time to light his antlers, except Jihoon was never in the mood to take a trip to the village to find new batteries. This routine continued for one year, two years, a decade, two decades, three._ _

_ _Jihoon was well and truly the last deerfolk._ _

_ _

_ _Jihoon sat in bed, reading a book he had already read a thousand times over. His hair had started to turn grey at the roots now. His face sported new wrinkles and he struggled a bit more with the hill these days. He was, after all, near the end of his life. Deerfolk didn’t live that long: their lifespan was also a combination of deer and human, which resulted in a nice in between. He used to think this was quite sad, but Jihoon was now grateful. He missed Seungcheol so much and couldn’t wait to see him again. _ _

_ _He could’ve sworn he heard the door open. He almost shrugged it off. It wasn’t like he never hallucinated these days. It was a common occurrence for him to hear someone moving about the place when Jihoon knew no one was there. Had he believed in ghosts, it would have been quite spooky._ _

_ _Jihoon got up. Even if he was hallucinating (although he hadn’t for a while), he thought it best to check things out._ _

_ _It was a good thing he did. A human stood in his living room._ _

_ _“Hello,” Jihoon said. He had no idea how to respond._ _

_ _The man stared at him in awe. “You’re real?”_ _

_ _Jihoon looked at his hands. He prodded each in turn. “Yeah. May I ask what you’re doing here?”_ _

_ _“I did knock,” said the man, “I don’t just walk into doors in hills. You didn’t say don’t come in, so…”_ _

_ _“Yeah, yeah, that’s… that’s fine, actually,” Jihoon surprised himself. He wondered if he was desperate for company or just didn’t care._ _

_ _“I just… you know, as a kid, I was told all these stories about this man and he lived in the woods, and he had antlers and a little black nose-” Jihoon twitched his nose in response. “-and I always wanted to meet this guy. Like, I’d heard all these stories of him stealing food and stealing clothes and blankets and I thought, well, that’s fair. He lives in a forest. And holy shit, you’re real! Everyone told me ‘don’t go looking for him, if he even exists he’ll probably kill you or he’ll be dead by now anyway’, and you’re alive, and I’m still alive…”_ _

_ _Jihoon stared. Did all humans talk this much?_ _

_ _“Well,” he said, a little stunned, “you probably got lucky. You were pretty close to nearly missing me.”_ _

_ _“Really? What’s your lifespan?”_ _

_ _“50 years.”_ _

_ _“And how old are you?”_ _

_ _“53.”_ _

_ _The guy stared with wide eyes and an open mouth. Then he held his hand out. “Seokmin.”_ _

_ _“Jihoon,” he pressed the back of his hand against Seokmin’s. Seokmin looked confused and held his hand instead. Then shook it. So that was pretty weird, Jihoon thought. Must be a cultural difference._ _

_ _Seokmin sat down at the table and Jihoon followed suit. This was odd._ _

_ _“So,” said the human, “tell me about yourself.”_ _

_ _The deerfolk raised his eyebrows. “Where do you want me to start?”_ _

_ _“At the beginning.”_ _

_ _So Jihoon did. He told him about his childhood, which was fairly happy except his mother died when he was eight and his dad when he was fourteen. From then on, he fended for himself with nothing but a slingshot to keep him safe. He took care of birds and developed an interest in rocks. He thought he was the last of his kind, but he discovered that he was wrong when he was twenty-three. Jihoon met the greatest creature he ever could. He fell in love like an avalanche and they married almost a year later. Just two months later, he was killed, and he had been alone ever since._ _

_ _“It’s a shame,” Seokmin said once he was finished, “the last deerfolk left in the world and they were both men.”_ _

_ _It was Seokmin’s turn, but his story was fairly straightforward. He had a normal human life in the village and had always been interested in deerfolk through the stories he was told. He had been through the woods a few times before, but had never found anything. Until now._ _

_ _Seokmin had arrived in the early evening, so now it was getting dark and he thought it best that he went back home. He asked if he could visit again, and although it wasn’t Seungcheol’s company, Jihoon found that he had enjoyed it. So he said yes and wrote down some easy directions from the village._ _

_ _Seokmin kept his promise. He was back the next day, this time with some bread and iced buns. He accompanied Jihoon about his day and took some notes. He aimed to write a book about deerfolk. It was a shame, he had decided, that they were so misunderstood. The man felt the need to change that._ _

_ _When it came to visiting Seungcheol, Seokmin hovered awkwardly behind Jihoon._ _

_ _“Hi, Cheollie,” Jihoon began, “I’ve brought a new friend today. His name’s Seokmin and he probably talks too much, but that’s alright. I know you wouldn’t want me moping alone forever. Sorry it took so long, he only just turned up.”_ _

_ _“I don’t like this impression you’re giving him of me,” Seokmin declared. For the first time in thirty years, Jihoon almost laughed._ _

_ _The new routine was a nice change for Jihoon. It mixed his life up a bit and he also appreciated the rambling between journeys. Nature got blocked out after three decades._ _

_ _Seokmin came to see him most days of the week. Jihoon started to wonder if this was what it was like to have a grown son, since Seokmin was only twenty. _ _

_ _As Jihoon grew older and weaker, Seokmin visited more frequently. He saw that the poor guy was beginning to need it. He held his arm down the hill and helped him stand up after sitting with the rocks or by Seungcheol’s grave. _ _

_ _They had to stop trekking to Seungcheol’s. It was too far for Jihoon now. It almost knocked him out flat. Instead, Seokmin left Jihoon’s a little earlier and visited Seungcheol for him. It felt a little strange, but he felt the need to update him on Jihoon and how the man was doing._ _

_ _Jihoon’s final days crept up. Seokmin set about making everything comfortable for him, making it easy. He entertained him with stories from his childhood and his wild teenage years. This amused Jihoon - Seokmin spoke about it like he was old, too. The two bonded and became good friends._ _

_ _It wasn’t too long before Jihoon didn’t feel well enough to get up and down the hill to the river. Seokmin brought him rocks and cooked fish, collected nuts, collected berries, as well as fresh food from the village. Jihoon began to feel like maybe, just maybe, Seungcheol had sent Seokmin to him. _ _

_ _Seokmin came in one morning to find Jihoon breathing raspingly and heavily. It didn’t take him long to realise he was at the end of his life._ _

_ _“Hi,” he greeted. He had no idea what to do._ _

_ _“Morning,” Jihoon answered. Seokmin came over and sat down next to him. He took his hand. He was surprised when Jihoon didn’t object._ _

_ _Seokmin and Jihoon sat in silence. Well, not silence: Jihoon’s breathing was pretty loud._ _

_ _“Are you excited to see Seungcheol?” Seokmin blurted out. He frowned as soon as he said it, but luckily, Jihoon just smiled._ _

_ _“God, yeah. I hope he missed me.”_ _

_ _“I’m sure he did,” Seokmin reassured him and ran circles in his hand. “Hey, Hoon? Thank you for letting me keep you company.”_ _

_ _“Thank you for looking after me,” Jihoon said softly. Then he added, “when I die, can you do me one last favour?”_ _

_ _“Of course.”_ _

_ _Jihoon took a slightly deeper breath. “Bury me next to Seungcheol. And can you get the headstone for me? No one else will. If you follow the river from the right of here, you’ll come across a wooden hut. It’s owned by an elf, Minghao-”_ _

_ _“Young or old?”_ _

_ _“Fuck knows, elves live for hundreds of years. He’ll make the gravestone for you. He’s grumpy with everyone, don’t take it…” Jihoon needed a second to catch his breath, then continued. “...don’t take it personally. You can pay him in rocks. Do you think you can do that for me?”_ _

_ _Seokmin nodded. “I’ll do my best.”_ _

_ _Jihoon thanked him. He focused on his breathing. The old deerfolk could feel his body weakening and he welcomed death._ _

_ _Jihoon’s final moments were, overall, surprisingly happy. He felt quite content. He knew that he had lived the best life he could, all things considered, and soon he would be seeing Seungcheol. That was the best part. His beautiful, wonderful, darling Seungcheol. The couple had only had a year together on earth and now it was time to spend eternity with him._ _

_ _The last deerfolk passed away peacefully in his home, surrounded by no one except the last speaking creature who enjoyed his company._ _

_ _Seokmin went about Jihoon’s final wish. He dug his grave and found the hut owned by a grumpy elf named Minghao. Minghao was still young and he looked almost sad when Seokmin told him Jihoon had died. _ _

_ _Jihoon has a very small funeral, but somehow managed a bigger one than Seungcheol had. Minghao accompanied Seokmin and they said their goodbyes. Minghao regretted never going to see Jihoon. He had always meant to, but living as long as he did, he didn’t have much concept of time and didn’t realise how old Jihoon was. He had assumed deerfolk lived for centuries, too._ _

_ _Although Seokmin had only known Jihoon for a few months, he had grown very attached to him and not just because of his species. He felt he was the luckiest person in the world to know him, to accompany him for his final moments. He knew that Jihoon was misunderstood. He knew that Seungcheol was wrongly killed. He knew that they were both the kindest creatures you could ever hope to meet. Seokmin knew._ _

_ _For the rest of his life, Seokmin maintained Jihoon’s home. He went there when he needed time out and it was where he wrote his book (which turned out to be a bestseller). He visited Jihoon and Seungcheol’s graves and updated them on his life._ _

_ _Ten years later, Seokmin had children of his own. He told them all about Jihoon and his husband. Jihoon’s memory was kept alive for centuries: it didn’t matter whether or not people believed it was true. At Halloween, children put on antler headbands, some with lights strung around them, and painted their noses black. Seokmin liked to think that Jihoon was watching and excitedly pointing it out to his husband. Afterall, Jihoon had always wanted to be remembered positively._ _

_ _And in the end, he was._ _

**Author's Note:**

> proofread that sobering up from a party at 1am we  
i. actually cried writing the end of that,, didnt cry at cheols death but i did at hoons legacy  
thank u for reading ily bye


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